Love Poem: Unnecessary Love
Ikram Berkache Avatar
Written by: Ikram Berkache

Unnecessary Love

I don’t need that unnecessary love. 
A love of limited time based on moral and physical pretendence.

At that moment the feeling was so high much more like I took a glass of bear.
But the moment went by, 
And now a scream in the deepest cave is what I need,
In the deep cave where none can hear.

After a complete alienation from this world;
Which was already strangely cold,
Alienation; once again, came to cover this soul:
As a frozen soil covers the last part of a dead body.
As a beautiful soul leaves a well being body.
Or as a weak flower departs from its motherhood earth.
Simply I was left alone.
And when I opened my eyes I kept asking where I was?
And what did happen?
But I knew deep inside , Even if it wasn’t a fact, 
That a wind had came and took the bear robe I had upon a wounded body, 
Barely covering the wounds and stopping the breeze.
I am naked in a world that it is now stranger than it was before. 

At this moment words are not flowing and the anger is so harsh to keep inside.
Words are not coming out,
And it seems hard to even explain my own fear to myself.
Words are nor here,
And that’s what makes me even lonely.
“Me cannot even understand Myself”
“ Had Me step back as the one who had left?”
“Maybe after a beautiful while with who had left,
Me couldn’t stand Myself
And departed as the one who left”
“Or had Me took the initial and went to the other side without Myself” 
As lonely as a tree in desert I stand alone naked in this world cold and wounded.

Only a shadow is wandering in a soul that couldn’t find an explained sadness to blame.
This soul had felt emptiness, then it had made you inside,
And it told itself to accept this new feeling,
And then it had named it “ love”.
But why?
Because a glance on the surface of people
It was the only answer it could pop up with.
Then why so?
Well every child imitates his own mother,
She’s the only one, who gave him knowledge,
No wander a full version of her is an exact copy of him,
Whether it’s true, a fact, a good, or a false, an illusion, an evil.

Inside this soul an imitation had conquered every corner. 
Then a lure had blinded the space,
And made the room full of candles.
And a candle cannot last more than half a day,
But it forgot, or let me say it didn’t know; 
It has never experience life broadly to even know,
A candle cannot last more than half a day.
It amazed me, shamefully
It amazed me too much.

But a rain may come and irrigate the lonely tree. 
God would never forget his creation.